


Iwaizumi Doesn't get Cold

by BlobbyBlobbyBlobfish



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fever, Fluff, M/M, One singular swear word, Sickfic, like tooth-rotting fluff, sick Iwaizumi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:13:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23561368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlobbyBlobbyBlobfish/pseuds/BlobbyBlobbyBlobfish
Summary: “...are you wearing my sweatshirt?”He shrugged.  “I’m cold.”Just a fluffy little IwaOi sickfic in which Oikawa finds Iwaizumi in his sweatshirt.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Kudos: 223





	Iwaizumi Doesn't get Cold

**Author's Note:**

> So I originally put this on my Tumblr (same name if you're curious), but I decided to also put it up here. Also, considering all the scary going on, I feel obligated to say this is NOT about coronavirus. Anyway, I hope you like it!

“Iwa-chaaaaan!” Oikawa called up the stairs. “I thought you were just taking a quick shower! If we want to make it to the game on time we need to go!” 

“I’m right here, Shittykawa,” he said, appearing at the top of the stairwell. 

Oikawa’s jaw dropped. There his boyfriend was, at the top of the stairs, in a slightly too big pale purple hoodie with little yellow stars where a breast pocket would be; hood up, hands in pocket, hair still wet and tousled, face pink. 

“...are you wearing my sweatshirt?” 

He shrugged. “I’m cold.” 

“I thought you didn’t get cold,” Oikawa teased with a smile. 

“I don’t usually.” He made his way down the stairs, stopping one step from the bottom. 

“Usually?” The setter went on his tip toes, peering into iwaizumi’s eyes. 

“Yeah.” He flicked Oikawa’s forehead. 

Oikawa didn’t flinch, Instead he dropped his smile and further scanned the spiker’s face. At the closer distance he could see the start of dark circles around glassy eyes through the still present flush on his face. 

“You feeling okay?” he finally asked. 

Iwaizumi frowned. “I’m just cold. I’ll probably be fine once my hair dries.” 

“Probably? That’s not very convincing, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa brought a hand up. “You were looking awfully slow at practice too...” 

Iwaizumi’s frown turned to a glower and he grabbed Oikawa’s hand from midair. 

“Don’t we need to get going? Takeru will be pissed if we come late to his first game of the season...” The end of the sentence pittered out as Oikawa pulled Iwaizumi towards him, bringing soft, cool lips to brush his forehead. 

“I don’t think we’re going,” he said softly, bringing his free hand to Iwaizumi’s shoulder, heat radiating through the hoodie. “You’re burning up. Even that shower you just took wouldn’t make you this warm. Why are you trying to deny it?” 

“You wanted to support your nephew - he deserves that. We should go.” Iwaizumi pulled back a little and stepped to even ground with Oikawa. “I’ll be fine, really.”

“The only place you should go is bed.” Oikawa crossed his arms and gave a death stare. 

Iwaizumi returned the glare, starting a short, silent, stubborn war of will. 

But after a few moments, the first shiver coursed through the spiker’s body and his glare faded. 

“Fine, we can stay here,” he mumbled. He let his head plop heavily against Oikawa’s shoulder. “But when Takeru tries to kill you, I’m not helping.” 

“He’ll understand.” he wrapped his arms around Iwaizumi, holding his now lightly quivering frame close. “Now, bed?” 

“Eh, not tired enough yet.” 

“How about a movie then?” 

“Sure.” 

“Alright. Come on, cutie.” 

Oikawa released his hold and the two headed to the couch in the other room. 

“I’m going to go make some tea. Pick something good while I’m gone, okay?” He produced a blanket and pulled it around Iwaizumi’s shoulders. 

“You really don’t have to. I’m just a little under the weather, not incapacitated,” he replied. Though he picked up the remote and made no active sign of protesting. 

“So ungrateful,” Oikawa scoffed. He walked out to heat up some water. 

When he returned, two steaming mugs in hand, the only sign indicating there was someone under the blanket were little tufts of dark hair peeking out the top. 

“You look ridiculous. Come out of there a little you gremlin.” 

He received a glare and the blanket shifted down to expose the entirety of Iwaizumi’s face. 

“Just come over here. I want to leech your warmth like you always do to me.” 

Oikawa gave a little smile, a genuine one, and settled onto the couch next Iwaizumi, the spiker immediately curling up against him, letting out a little sigh of pleasure. 

“I’ll allow it - just this once.” 

Within fifteen minutes, Iwaizumi was fast asleep against Oikawa’s shoulder, breath hot against his neck. 

“Not tired, my ass,” he muttered to himself, looking fondly at the figure resting against him. “Get your rest, Iwa-chan.” 

He turned down the tv and switched the movie (seemed like they were going to stay like that for a little while).


End file.
